


when the summer's over

by seeingrightly



Category: Pacific Rim (Movies)
Genre: M/M, Post-Movie: Pacific Rim: Uprising (2018)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-11
Updated: 2018-11-11
Packaged: 2019-08-22 04:08:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16590572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seeingrightly/pseuds/seeingrightly
Summary: “Now what?” Newt asks, hoping Hermann has a plan for him.Hermann smiles up at him and cups his face, strokes a thumb over his cheek.“I would like to take you very far away from here,” he says, his voice shaking. “How does that sound to you?”





	when the summer's over

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sarah1281](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sarah1281/gifts).



> i can't tell you what sarah requested i write because it'd spoil you for the end of the fic, BUT i can tell you that the whole time i was writing this i was like "oh my god, the only emotion i know how to write is anxiety, how do i write sadness and insecurity instead????"
> 
> thanks 2 lindsey and melissa for looking this over
> 
> title from "when all is said and done" by abba

 

 

 

Newt’s initial recovery blurs together, aside from when Hermann is there. They don’t trust that he’s really himself again. They ask him endless questions about what he knows. His physical health has to be prioritized over his mental health for a bit, and stopping the precursors for good has to be prioritized over that. It’s endless days in an interrogation room or physical therapy or a hospital bed, and Newt is either being made to talk about the precursors or dreaming about them, except for when Hermann is there.

He’s not sure what happened the first time they saw one another. He’s not used to remembering things in clear, sequential order. He knows whenever Hermann visits, there is crying and touching. Hermann wants to ask questions, Newt can tell, but he doesn’t. He holds Newt and lets him be quiet. Those are the only times when he feels separate from what happened to him.

Hermann scares Newt one day by bursting into his room in the hospital wing, tears on his face. Newt flinches and drops his pen. They’d asked him to try to take notes about what he could remember from his possession. Hermann sweeps over to where he sits at the desk and sinks down onto his knees with less care than he should, placing one hand on Newt’s arm and the other on his knee.

“I’m sorry,” Hermann says, his voice gone strange from the crying. “I’m sorry, dear. I didn’t mean to startle you, but - it’s over. The precursors. And they’re going to free you now.”

He reaches up with a shaking hand to touch Newt’s hair. He’s disheveled, panting. Newt wonders what role he played in this battle. He doesn’t want to know the answer. He doesn’t want to know any of it. He reaches out without meaning to and fists his hand in Hermann’s shirt.

“Now what?” Newt asks, hoping Hermann has a plan for him.

Hermann smiles up at him and cups his face, strokes a thumb over his cheek.

“I would like to take you very far away from here,” he says, his voice shaking. “How does that sound to you?”

 

It doesn’t happen immediately, mainly because Hermann wants Newt to help decide where they go, and Newt doesn’t feel up to making decisions yet. He hasn’t felt much yet aside from fear or the absence of it, and the latter only while wrapped up in Hermann.

They go back to Hermann’s room, taking the least used routes to avoid the party happening throughout the Shatterdome. Hermann hands him pajamas and they both get changed. Then, Hermann turns the slightest shade of pink as he takes Newt’s hand and leads him to the bed. Newt ends up curled on top of Hermann’s chest, which, after a few moments, begins to shake.

“You don’t know how many times I’ve thought about this,” Hermann says through tears. “I never thought I would have it.”

That “it,” to Newt, is ambiguous. Hermann must have spent his time longing for something very specific that he isn’t likely to get. Newt doesn’t know who he is now and neither does Hermann. But Hermann is smart. He knows Newt is damaged goods. He’ll know he needs to adjust his expectations. Newt just has to hope that Newt can meet those new expectations, or that the standard he meets isn’t too low to keep Hermann happy.

It’s hard to imagine that he’ll make Hermann happy. It’s hard to imagine much of anything, moving forward.

 

Newt is unsurprised by his nightmares. What he doesn’t expect is to wake up to Hermann’s lips on his forehead. He turns his face upward without thinking, curling into Hermann, sliding a hand up his back. Hermann gasps and kisses Newt’s face again and again, clutching him tighter, until he reaches his mouth. It’s dark in Hermann’s room. There’s no window. It could be any time of day or night. All Newt knows for certain anymore is the feeling of this body holding up his own, and he melts into it, the two of them shaking and gasping, over two decades of build-up pouring into an uncoordinated, frantic kiss.

Hermann’s hand trembles against his face when he pulls away.

“Darling, are you sure -”

“Yes, god, this is the only thing,” Newt chokes.

Hermann kisses him again, this time slow and sure, and Newt never wants him to stop.

 

When Newt wakes up again, after, Hermann is sitting at his desk with a lamp turned on, looking at his tablet. He’s thrown a cardigan and his slippers on over his pajamas and his hair is a disaster and there’s something concerning in his posture, the way he’s slumped forward, his mouth resting against his fist. The bad feeling is confirmed when Newt shifts a little and Hermann flinches, looks over guiltily before smiling, though it’s genuine.

“Hey,” Newt says, sitting up. “You okay?”

“Me? Yes. What about you?”

Hermann’s eyebrows draw together. Maybe it’s just guilt about whether Newt’s ready to begin a relationship. Maybe Hermann never wants to do that again, now that he’s gotten to. All the years of build-up can’t be worth what’s left of Newt now.

“Newton,” Hermann says, and then he stands up and moves over to sit down next to Newt. “You’re alright?”

Hermann places his hand on Newt’s leg through the sheets, and Newt leans forward to press his forehead against Hermann’s shoulder.

“I don’t know how to answer that,” he says. “But you didn’t do anything wrong.”

Newt wonders if instead, he was the one who did something wrong by letting this happen. If he should make Hermann wait until he knows what he’d be getting himself into. If it would spare them both more pain in the long-run.

“That’s not quite the same thing,” Hermann sighs, moving his hand to the back of Newt’s neck. “Are you ready to talk about getting out of here?”

“Yeah,” Newt says, pulling back, and Hermann shifts until he’s sitting against the headboard and pulls Newt with him.

“I made a list,” Hermann starts, and despite everything, Newt laughs.

Hermann sighs and presses his face against Newt’s hair.

“I made a list of places where I have connections, where I could easily get us work as soon as we needed it,” he says. “Mainly universities. Mostly in North America, the UK, and Germany.”

Newt lets out an displeased noise before he can stop himself.

“Which part was that in reference to?”

“Work?” Newt says. “What can I - how can I -”

“No, no, I don’t expect you to - I meant that I’d be able to get immediate work, and that these are people who would be willing to take my word that they should hire you. If you end up wanting that.”

“Oh,” Newt says.

He has a hard time picturing himself doing anything but learning, studying, exploring, but he doesn’t trust himself in a lab anymore, and no one should allow him to teach. He can’t fathom how he’ll spend his days, aside from waiting for Hermann to come home like a housebound pet. He doesn’t know how to process or describe the need to do something and his total lack of direction.

“Do you have any particular preference where we go?” Hermann asks. “Or don’t go?”

“Not Boston,” Newt says immediately. “Not Germany.”

“Alright, what about city size? Or if you don’t want a city at all -”

“No, somewhere I won’t be recognized or remembered as much would be good. At least at first.”

Hermann is quiet for a long moment, and Newt turns to look at him.

“The idea of being separated from you in a big city makes me nervous,” Hermann says slowly, like he’s not sure if he should admit to it.

“I don’t think you’d feel any better about it in a small college town either,” Newt says. “Would you?”

“No. No, I wouldn’t.” Hermann sighs then. “But speaking of being separated…”

“What?” Newt asks quickly, struck with fear.

“I think,” Hermann says, working his jaw, “I think that you and I should live separately. We - we always benefited from having our own spaces, and you need to be able to figure out what it is you really want now. I don’t think my constant presence would help you do that. But I - I’d be very close by, so I could be with you whenever you need. As much or as little as you want, Newton.”

If Newt told Hermann he’d rather live together, he thinks Hermann would say yes - he’d do it for Newt. He wants to protect Newt, to help him get better. But Newt has to protect Hermann too.

“How close by?” Newt asks, because he wants to make the right choice by Hermann, but he’s still scared.

Hermann rubs his hand nervously up and down Newt’s arm.

“I was thinking a few buildings down,” he says. “Separate buildings on the same block. So I can be there for you straight away, but you can also have your own life.”

It hits Newt, as Hermann swallows nervously, that Hermann has no idea the depth of Newt’s need for him. Newt is pretty sure that the safest choice would be to keep it that way.

 

Newt has nightmares the entire flight to New York City. After the second time he wakes up, Hermann orders a coffee. He holds Newt in his arms and speaks to him softly until he falls asleep and after he wakes up shaking and crying. He doesn’t sleep at all himself, and still he manages to get them safely to Newt’s new apartment, to speak with the landlord and retrieve two sets of keys, to lead Newt by the hand to open the front door.

The apartment is a small, pre-furnished one-bedroom with large windows. Of everything they’d sent ahead, very little was Newt’s, and there’s one sad cardboard box in the middle of the living room.

“I need stuff,” Newt says, and Hermann laughs.

“You need _food_ ,” Hermann says. “But we’ve been traveling for a long time. We can do that tomorrow. What should we order?”

Hermann ends up picking the closest place he can find by Googling, and after he places the order Newt decides he has to bring up one of the many things that has him uneasy. Newt no longer has access to the money the precursors hoarded under his name. Hermann found a position teaching a couple of summer courses that’ll lead into full time work in the fall, but his salary can’t be enough to support both of them.

“Hermann, how are you going to afford -”

“Please,” Hermann says, slumping against the back of the ugly but comfortable couch as he puts away his phone. “Don’t worry about that. I don’t want you to worry about anything, Newton. I am going to take care of you, and you are going to focus on healing. We’ll find you a therapist tomorrow as well.”

“What, and you’ll pay for that out-of-pocket too?” Newt asks, trying not to panic. “I don’t want you to throw your savings away on me -”

“I’m not throwing them away,” Hermann says calmly. “I’m using them for an important, unanticipated situation, which is what they’re for.”

He reaches out and takes Newt’s hand in his own, rubbing his thumb along the knuckles. Newt watches the movement of his thumb until Hermann’s other hand tilts up his chin. He presses their lips together, carefully at first, and then he cups both of Newt’s cheeks, kissing him slowly and steadily. There’s no urgency or desperation like last time. Newt wants to believe the way Hermann kisses him now. This kiss feels like patience and comfort, with no need to rush. It feels like the way they would kiss every day, if they kissed every day.

Hermann pulls at Newt until he straddles him on the couch, but it’s just to bring him closer and keep kissing him the same way. Newt curls his hands into Hermann’s cardigan and Hermann runs his fingertips along Newt’s spine. The warmth that spreads from those points of contact makes Newt wonder, for the first time, if Hermann really could stay because he wants to. If there’s a chance Hermann won’t decide he has no interest in the new Newt, won’t get tired of trying to fix him.

It’s an intoxicating feeling. He wants to keep Hermann’s hands and mouth where they are, to keep thinking these impossible thoughts, but he knows his fear will return. He’s not sure if he should let himself get caught up in thinking this way while he can.

He doesn’t have to decide, because the apartment’s doorbell buzzes. Hermann pulls away, kissing the corner of Newt’s mouth one last time before he stands.

 

Halfway into their late lunch, Hermann falls asleep with his head against Newt’s shoulder. Eventually, he has to wake Hermann up so he can meet with his own landlord to get his own keys. When Newt touches his leg and says his name quietly, Hermann rubs his cheek against Newt’s shoulder and then opens his eyes, smiling.

It won’t last, Newt thinks immediately. This isn’t something he can have. It’s a struggle not to flinch away as Hermann sits up and presses a kiss to his cheek. Hermann clears his throat, then, and for a second Newt is worried that Hermann can see how scared he is.

“Will you come over to see my apartment tomorrow?” Hermann asks, nerves in his voice.

Newt can’t fathom why Hermann would think he might say no. It’s not as though Newt particularly _wants_ to see this place, separate from his own, but he’s not going to deny Hermann something simple when Hermann hasn’t denied him a single thing yet.

“Of course I will,” Newt says.

Hermann places a hand on his knee briefly before he stands, and then he pulls a key out of his pocket and hands it to Newt. After staring at the key in his palm for a long moment, Newt follows him to the door, hovering. Hermann pauses, looks around the apartment, then at Newt.

“Please call me if you need me,” he says, placing his hand on Newt’s arm. “If you need anything.”

His eyes are wide and earnest. Newt wants to ask him to stay. And yet he doesn’t want to trap him.

“Okay,” Newt says, placing his hand over Hermann’s.

Hermann nods, then leans in to press another kiss to Newt’s cheek before he goes.

 

Newt sleeps with the lights on, though he doesn’t sleep much at all. It’s a relief, compared to the nightmares, but it’s because it’s noisy and bright outside in a particular way it’s never been anywhere he’s lived before. And, of course, the bed is empty beside him. It’s not as though he’s had time to get used to Hermann comforting him, but the loss is palpable anyway. All he can think about is how close and far Hermann is at the same time, how easy it would be to have him here.

In the morning, he showers and dresses in some ill-fitting comfortable clothing Hermann had let him borrow. Then he texts Hermann to ask what he wants from the cafe between their buildings. The cafe is small but fairly crowded. He keeps his focus on the phone Hermann got him. It has more capabilities than Newt will ever need. He only has one contact. He pays with cash Hermann had given him in the airport.

He has some trouble carrying the bag of bagels and carton of coffees and opening the front door to Hermann’s building. When he rings the buzzer, Hermann doesn’t answer, so Newt tries a few others despite the early hour. He knocks on Hermann’s door, and when there’s no answer, he lets himself in, nearly dropping the coffees in the process.

The rush he gets from being annoying is the closest he’s felt to himself since he was freed.

Hermann is in the shower, so Newt sets everything down on the small kitchen table. He can take in the entire studio apartment by turning his head just a little bit in both directions. There are several cardboard boxes piled in a corner. This apartment is also pre-furnished, though barely. There’s no couch, and the table has only one chair.

Newt sits in it, and his gaze falls to the papers spread across the table. One is the lease to Newt’s apartment, in Hermann’s name. Another is the lease to Hermann’s.

Hermann’s lease is on a monthly basis. Newt’s is not.

Immediately, Newt is filled with a sense of dread, of loss, of wrong. Far back in his mind, he knows, intellectually, that this could mean many things, that he shouldn’t panic, but that part of him isn’t in control anymore. Hermann could leave at any time. He wouldn’t just up and leave Newt without warning, but he _could_. He can leave once Newt is well, once he thinks Newt doesn’t need him anymore.

Hermann has had his own life without Newt for ten years. He has all these resources, connections that Newt doesn’t know about. He saved the world again, not just without Newt but despite him. Hermann doesn’t know who Newt is now, and Newt doesn’t know who Hermann is either.

The shower turns off, and Newt jumps out of the chair, guilty. He takes a few steps across the apartment to pretend he’s inspecting the meager kitchen set-up as the bathroom door opens.

“Oh,” Hermann says. “Good morning, Newton.”

When Newt turns to look over his shoulder, Hermann smiles at him. He’s leaning his weight against the doorframe with a towel wrapped around his waist and water dripping down his neck. Newt is still panicking, though he thinks he’s hiding it, and he can’t take his eyes off of one water droplet that travels its way down the center of Hermann’s chest.

“Come over here, then,” Hermann says fondly.

Newt walks over slowly, and when he gets there, Hermann transfers his arm from the doorframe to Newt’s shoulders, leaning on him somewhat and getting his shirt damp. Newt wraps his arms around Hermann’s waist. For all that Hermann is causing this distress, his touch also soothes it, and Newt tucks into him, pressing his face against his shoulder.

Hermann kisses the top of Newt’s head. Newt doesn’t think he would do that if he had definite plans to leave. But maybe he’s not just aware that Newt might end up being too different now. Maybe he’s actively preparing for the possibility. One foot in Newt’s bed and one out the door, in case it doesn’t work out.

Can Newt blame him for that? For being scared that they won’t be good together? Isn’t Newt wrestling with the same thing, and still leaning into Hermann anyway?

If Hermann decides he doesn’t want to stay, once Newt can stand on his own, Newt can let him go. Now that he knows Hermann is thinking about it too, now that Newt can prepare himself, he’s not as scared. If Hermann thinks it’s worth a test run, wants to enjoy being with Newt on the path to figuring out if they should stay together, then Newt can enjoy having Hermann while he does.

Newt presses a kiss against Hermann’s shoulder and tightens his arms around his waist. He just has to remind himself not to hold onto Hermann too tightly, but it’s not easy, when Hermann kisses the side of his neck and lets go of his towel to slide his cold fingers under Newt’s shirt.

 

Newt’s first therapy session is an hour-long summary of the last decade of his life. They decide he should go every day, at first. On the second day, his extremely chill therapist, who asks to be called Katherine, lets him summarize his life prior to the precursors for most of the session. Then she interrupts him.

“How are you spending your days right now, Newt?” she asks.

He blinks at her. She has two nose rings and isn’t wearing any shoes. Newt hasn’t had any interest in lying to her since the first glimpse he got of her.

“Here,” he says. “Or with my friend, but he starts teaching classes in a few days.”

“Your friend,” Katherine repeats, in a tone that Newt already knows means they’ll revisit the subject. “Newt, we need to dive into your history and the issues you’re experiencing, of course, but you’re here daily because you need help with the day-to-day, and we need to do some work on that first. You need something to fill your days with, other than your therapy and whatever your one friend does in his free time.”

“Harsh,” Newt says mildly, but he likes it. “I’m all ears, dude. You have any suggestions?”

“What do you miss?” Katherine asks. “Be as specific or as broad as you want.”

“Most of my life before was my job,” Newt says, “and my education before that.”

“You said you don’t think you could, or should, go back to teaching. Or to science. But you could go back to school.”

“Who’s going to pay for me to get any more degrees?” Newt scoffs.

“Who said anything about degrees?” Katherine asks, unfazed. “Start small. Audit classes. Find something that’s interesting to you now. Learning something new is a valuable way to spend your time, and it could help process your trauma as well, depending on what you take.”

“What, like take art classes?” Newt asks. “Make art about my nightmares?”

“You could. Or you could take Classics and compare yourself to Icarus or whatever. Or you could learn how to bake. Or do geometry.”

Newt pulls a face at that last suggestion. But otherwise, Katherine might be onto something. He’s nervous at the idea of being surrounded by young, impressionable minds, and ones that’ll be judging him for being older and weird and quiet. He can’t imagine himself being anything else now. But there is an appeal to spending his time learning, and learning something he doesn’t have tainted memories of.

“I’ll bring a course catalogue tomorrow,” he says, and Katherine smiles.

 

Newt decides to audit two classes. One is a lecture-based survey of Western theater, and the other is a ceramics class which he expects to do horribly in. Katherine wants him to “embrace the option of failure.” Hermann laughs and asks for a mug.

After he gets through his first day, sweaty with stress and uncomfortable when anyone looks at him for longer than a moment at a time, Newt realizes how much he’s missed both theorizing and using his hands. He thinks it will be easy to fall into a routine of classes in the morning, therapy in the afternoon, and evenings and weekends spent with Hermann.

Then, at the end of their first week of classes, Hermann calls Newt.

“I’d like you to meet my colleagues who got me this job so quickly,” he says. “I know it’s last minute, but one of them isn’t usually in town, and I’ve just found out she’s here tonight. Would you be up for dinner?”

Newt essentially hasn’t spoken to anyone other than Hermann, full stop.

“Uh,” he says, “I don’t think I’m really dressed for that.”

He’s wearing jeans and a faded t-shirt and boots, all things he’d bought from a thrift store. He also has a thrifted backpack slung over his shoulder.

“You’re dressed like yourself, and that’s who they want to meet,” Hermann says. “We aren’t going to go anywhere fancy or crowded, I promise.”

Hermann’s voice is soothing and hopeful. Katherine had suggested Newt think about ways to meet people his own age, outside of his classes, and he suspects Hermann wants the same thing.

“Okay,” Newt says. “Can you summarize what you’ve told them about me?”

“Of course,” Hermann says, his smile evident. “And if you decide we need to leave during dinner, please tell me. I want you to be comfortable.”

“But…” Newt guesses.

“I also want you to have a full life, dear,” Hermann says. “I can’t be the only thing in it.”

Hermann sounds uncertain as he speaks, as though he doesn’t want to hurt Newt, or make things uncomfortable between them. It’s almost insulting, considering Newt had made the decision to take classes entirely independently of Hermann, not that that decision or his classes are particularly impressive life choices.

“You’re right,” Newt says neutrally. “I need other people to make shitty mugs for.”

“It isn’t shitty,” Hermann says immediately. “I love it.”

The handle had fallen off as soon as Newt had brought it over to Hermann’s apartment after his second class. It is absolutely shitty, and yet Hermann clearly means what he says.

Newt forgives him.

 

So the routine Newt falls into, as the summer semester progresses, is different than he originally expects. Newt meets Hermann’s colleagues, and his current coworkers, and then people who don’t seem to have any particular ties to Hermann but have some shared interests with Newt. He doesn’t know where Hermann procures a guitarist covered in tattoos who’s around their age, or a veterinarian with a whole hoard of reptiles for pets. He suspects, a bit hysterically, that Hermann is using a dating app to find Newt friends for after he leaves.

All the while, Hermann is touching Newt, holding his hand, kissing him, sleeping with him, but never spending the night. There’s no clear indication that he’s going to leave, and there’s no clear indication that he’s going to stay.

Newt’s nights improve, though. He knows where he is when he wakes up, even in the dark, and he can calm himself down pretty quickly most of the time. He’s not terrified to go to bed anymore, and he isn’t exhausted every morning. Katherine is pleased when he reports how he’s slept, going into the last week of the summer semester.

“That’s really good to hear, Newt,” she says. “I was thinking about suggesting we switch from every day to three days a week. How does that sound to you?”

Newt rubs his hand over his mouth. His routine is about to change as it is - Hermann will be switching to a full semester and will be busier, and Newt wants to take more classes but hasn’t made any decisions yet. Adding this change might make things more difficult, or it might be easier to handle them all in one go.

“I think I’m good with that,” Newt says. “We can switch back if I change my mind, right?”

“Of course,” Katherine says, pulling her feet, clad is mismatched socks, up onto her chair. “But I think you’re ready. Do you feel like you’ve made improvements in areas other than sleep?”

“Yeah,” Newt says before he can think about it, surprising himself. “I used to spend so much time thinking about how I don’t know who I am anymore, and now I feel like… I’m not gonna find the answer somehow. I have to decide it. Oh, shit.”

Newt grips the arms of his chair. He feels much better than he used to. Katherine can tell he’s much better than he used to be. If he’s better, if he seems better, then Hermann might leave.

“What’s wrong?” Katherine asks.

“How much time do we have left?”

“You’re my last appointment for the day. What’s wrong?”

Newt bites his lip. He’s barely told Katherine anything about Hermann, despite her questions, despite knowing it was the wrong thing to do. But Newt is getting better, and he knows to ignore the instinct to pretend he’s worse than he is so that Hermann will stay. He knows it’s time to tell Katherine everything.

Her eyebrows climb her forehead as he talks, and when he finishes, she’s quiet for a long moment. It’s rare for her to let him talk without interrupting to ask questions.

“Newt,” she says, “you’re projecting a whole bunch of stuff onto Hermann. You don’t know _anything_ you’ve just said to me for sure. You’ve made a lot of decisions based on assumptions, and those decisions could hurt both of you.”

“Yeah, I _know,_ ” Newt groans, covering his face with his hands. “I mean, not in so many words, but I knew I shouldn’t be doing things the way I was doing them. That’s why I didn’t tell you.”

“You have to talk to Hermann about this,” Katherine says.

“Yeah,” Newt says, dragging his hands down his face. “I’m scared.”

“I know, bud, but you gotta do the scary thing anyway.”

Newt looks down at his hands.

“Fortune favors the brave,” he says to himself. “Man, I used to be the kind of person who did scary shit _because_ it was scary. I loved risks. But not interpersonal stuff, just stupid, dangerous stuff. I’ve always been too scared of the real stuff.”

“You have the opportunity to decide to be the type of person who takes that kind of risk now, Newt,” Katherine says. “You can become that person whenever you want.”

Newt nods, and Katherine shifts.

“Newt,” she says, “I don’t think Hermann is going to leave. But I think that if he does, you can handle it. Do you?”

“I don’t know,” Newt says after a pause. “But I have to talk to him anyway.”

 

Newt cancels his plans to go for pizza with the lizard guy. It’s not exactly a given that Hermann was going to come over after, but Newt’s not surprised when Hermann texts to ask if he can do just that. Newt panics and ignores the text. Then Hermann calls and he ignores that too.

He does text Hermann, at least, to say that he’d fallen asleep and was probably going to go straight back to bed. The problem is that Newt then absolutely cannot sleep.

He sits on his bed, on top of the covers in the dark, and he panics. He panics for hours. He thinks, maybe, he should call Katherine. He has a couple of times after particularly bad nightmares, times when he wanted to call Hermann but wouldn’t.

The line connects, and Newt is surprised when it’s not Katherine who answers.

“Newton?” Hermann asks blearily, and then he must see the time, because his voice sharpens. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Newt says quickly. “Well, not nothing, but not, like, anything horrible.”

“Newton, what are you talking about? Do you need me to come over?”

Newt breathes shakily and rubs a hand over his face.

“Um,” he says, “well, I didn’t really eat much today and I don’t have anything in the house?”

“Of course,” Hermann says, and he sounds calmer now that there’s a plan.

Newt can hear him getting up, probably gathering up clothing and his wallet and his keys.

“I’ll meet you outside of your building in a few minutes,” he says. “Decide where you want to go, alright, dear?”

Newt lets out a noise of affirmation before Hermann hangs up. He doesn’t have it in him to change out of his pajama pants and ratty old band t-shirt. He shrugs on a hoodie and the slippers Hermann bought him.

To Newt’s surprise, when he makes it to the entrance of his building, Hermann is not only already there but he’s wearing his matching slippers, as he didn’t change out of his pajamas either, throwing his light fall jacket on over them. He must have wanted to get to Newt as quickly as possible. Paradoxically, Newt feels calmer and more settled now that Hermann is within reach. He steps into Hermann’s outstretched arm, pressing his face against his chest.

“Where to?” Hermann asks.

They end up at the burger place around the corner. Hermann buys himself a water and some french fries, and Newt gets a burger and a shake but he winds up only drinking the shake. Hermann holds his hand as they sit side by side in a booth.

“I know it doesn’t look like it right now,” Newt says eventually, “but I’m doing a lot better. That’s kind of why I’m freaking out.”

“Oh?” Hermann asks, warmth in his voice, like Newt not making any sense is charming to him.

Newt looks over at him. He looks happy to be here. He also looks tired.

“Yeah. I’m sleeping okay now. Katherine wants to cut down our sessions by half. I don’t know, like, what I want to do with myself long-term but I want to keep taking classes because they’re helping. I just - you shouldn’t have to keep paying for them, Hermann.”

Newt bites his lip. He can keep speaking. He can tell Hermann that he has the choice to leave, that Newt will figure out how to take care of himself again if he does. That Hermann has done enough already.

Or - no. That’s not what Katherine wants him to do. She wants him to express his insecurities and assumptions, to ask for Hermann’s side of things. To listen.

Newt opens his mouth, though he doesn’t know what’s going to come out of it, but Hermann, stroking his thumb along the back of Newt’s hand, sensing his distress, speaks first.

“Newton, I’m not supporting you because I feel as though I have to,” he says. “I’m doing it because I want to be here for you. And if you’re that worried about the classes in particular, then you should know that spouses of faculty can audit classes for free.”

Hermann wraps both hands around Newt’s. His ears turn pink as he stares down at their joined hands. Newt must have heard him incorrectly.

“ _What?_ ” he asks eventually, and Hermann looks up at him out of the corner of his eye, a slightly guilty expression on his face.

“I’m sorry, darling. I was planning to broach this topic _after_ moving in with you -”

“After you _what_ ?” Newt yelps, drawing the attention of the two employees behind the counter. “Is _that_ why your lease is monthly?”

Newt is feeling too many things at the same time, and it’s turning into a bubbling hysteria that he doesn’t know if he can contain. Hermann looks shocked and unhappy but he also looks concerned, and he places his hand on the side of Newt’s face and leans in close.

“Newton,” he says, so gently, even now, when Newt has upset him. “Why don’t we leave? Why don’t we go back home and talk about this there?”

 _Home_. Newt’s apartment. Newt’s apartment that Hermann always expected to move into. Hermann unlocks the door with his set of keys, and Newt grabs ahold of his phone in his pocket. He wants to call Katherine. He wants her to tell him that he’ll be okay no matter how this conversation goes.

But Hermann is standing uncomfortably in the doorway of an apartment he hasn’t let himself move into, and Newt knows the reason he did it was to protect Newt, even if he doesn’t know the specifics. Hermann suggested he wants to _marry_ Newt. He doesn’t want to leave. Newt can handle talking about that.

“Come on,” he says, and Hermann follows him to the couch, though he leaves some space between them. After a moment, he offers, “I saw your lease on your kitchen table that first morning.”

“What did you assume it meant?” Hermann asks, his words careful, like he doesn’t think he wants the answer.

“Before that I just expected you would realize I wasn’t - good anymore, and that you didn’t want to be with me,“ Newt says, not looking at Hermann. “Then I figured you knew that was a probability, and you were preparing for it, so you could go whenever I could stand on my own.”

Hermann leans forward and rests his hand on Newt’s knee lightly, like he might pull back at any moment.

“Newton,” he says, his voice strained. “The idea that my behavior enabled you to worry about that - something I wasn’t _remotely_ considering -”

“It didn’t,” Newt says, placing his hand over Hermann’s and finally looking at him. “I made assumptions because I was scared, and I didn’t do anything to figure out if they were accurate or not because I was scared.”

Hermann shakes his head.

“I wanted to give you your own independent life, to make sure that you weren’t reliant on me,” he says. “I wanted to be your _choice_ , not your only option. I didn’t realize what that might look like to you if I didn’t explain myself. And I - I kept telling myself I’d wait until you were recovered enough to ask for the things I wanted, but I was too happy to have you back. I kept moving more quickly than I meant to, and not talking about it with you, as though that would mean I wasn’t really breaking my own rules. None of that was fair or helpful to you.”

Newt releases a harsh breath. He’s been carrying so much, since he was freed, since they moved to New York, and he knew that his relationship with Hermann was a part of that weight, for all that it shouldn’t have been. And it isn’t entirely lifted - they haven’t resolved everything with a few sentences - but Newt feels so much lighter than he can remember feeling.

“I think we should go talk to Katherine together,” he says, more sure of himself than he’s been in a long time. “She can help us figure out what we need to do to get to the same place after all of this. And how not to do this to one another again. How to communicate better.”

Hermann nods, then leans forward to cup Newt’s cheek and press their foreheads together.

“You’re right,” he says. “I need to work to get better just like you’ve been doing. I’m so proud of you.”

Newt cringes in embarrassment and ducks his head, which results in his unintentionally tucking under Hermann’s chin. Hermann scoops him in against his chest.

“I suppose I haven’t made this clear,” Hermann says, “which was a mistake, and I regret it. But I love you, Newton, very much.”

Newt fists his hands in Hermann’s pajama shirt. His instinct is to assume that Hermann doesn’t mean it, can’t, or won’t continue to. But Newt knows better now. He pulls back to see the calm, certain look on Hermann’s face, and he believes it.

“I love you,” Newt says. “Stay the night with me.”

Hermann looks over at the clock on the wall unit.

“It’s morning by now, dear, but I will stay.”

Hermann sends out a very early email canceling his classes for the day, and Newt sends one to Katherine asking if Hermann can join their session that afternoon, and then they get into the bed that Hermann bought, that they picked out together, that only Newt has slept in since. They lie on their sides, curled toward one another, and Newt can see Hermann’s eyelashes flutter in the faint light breaking past the edges of the window shades.

“You were gonna ask me to marry you?” Newt asks, finally, and Hermann’s eyes open.

“I’m still going to,” Hermann replies, tangling their fingers together between them. “Though it’s good that you’ll be prepared for it now.”

“Yeah,” Newt says. “So I can say yes instead of asking what the hell you’re talking about.”

Hermann brings their joined hands to his mouth and kisses the back of Newt’s, smiling against it.

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> find me on tumblr at [ch3ry1b10ss0m](https://www.ch3ry1b10ss0m.tumblr.com)  
> or twitter at [coralbluenmbr5](https://www.twitter.com/coralbluenmbr5)


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